Cold Race
by SGAFan
Summary: For the friends of John Sheppard, it's a race against time when he finds something unusual in the lower levels of Atlantis. Warning: There be Shep Whump here!
1. Chapter 1

_**Cold Race**_

"_**Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal: my strength lies solely in my tenacity." - Louis Pasteur**_

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It always helped. The burning in his legs, the cleansing feel of each deep, fast breath, the rush of blood coursing swiftly through his body, all of it pushed his stress away and with how things had been lately, he'd had more than enough stress and tension to work off.

Running had become his salvation; the quiet time when he could get off alone, to think or to just let his thoughts go. He used to run with Ronon, but somewhere along the way an unspoken agreement had been reached between them. He needed this time on his own and somehow, Ronon knew it. Leaving their normal route through the high walkways of the city, John found a new path. Quiet and secluded, the lower levels of Atlantis were deserted... and that's exactly how he liked it.

He lengthened his stride, the steady pace of his run giving way to a sprint. He felt alive, strong... free. His arms pumped vigorously, lending strength and speed to his legs. A smile touched his mouth as his breaths came faster and his heart beat quicker, but he felt invigorated, like nothing in the world could hurt him. He continued pushing his body until fatigue forced him to slow to a jog and finally a walk. Breathing heavily, John swung his arms forwards and back, as he walked along the deserted hallway.

Under the surface of the ocean, the lower levels of the city were cool. Even though they had a ZPM, there was no reason to power the whole city. Here, only basic life support kept these areas accessible but not comfortable. But, as the sweat on his skin cooled in the air, John found the atmosphere to be refreshing.

He stopped and stared out one of the many windows, his sight limited by the darkness of the deep ocean. Part of him felt slight disquiet at being so far under the water. He much preferred the high skies to the deep ocean; after all he was an Air Force pilot, not a Submariner. Yet, there was an odd beauty to the ocean that, in his two and a half years in Atlantis, he'd developed fondness for. He looked up, his eyes following one narrow stream of sunlight that scintillated down from the surface before jumping slightly as an odd looking fish swam right in front of the window. A faint twinkle caught his attention and he turned his head, his gaze narrowing.

Not far away John could see the lower levels of the East Pier and what he saw piqued his curiosity. From what he presumed was another window in the pier, he could see a dim blinking light, its pattern random. Still breathing heavily, he reached up and tapped his radio. "Control, this is Sheppard."

"Colonel?" Rodney's voice answered, "you sound out of breath."

"Running usually does that, Rodney," John quipped dryly. "Not that I'd expect you to understand."

"Au contraire!" Rodney snapped back, "Being a member of Team 'Running for Our Lives is a Daily Occurrence' Sheppard, has given me more experience than I ever asked for. Now," Rodney continued, "Is there some reason why you're bugging me?"

John rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact, yes. Are the sensors picking up any unusual readings from the East Pier?"

"Stand by... and what do you mean by unusual?"

"Unusual as in something that would cause the faint blinking light I'm seeing?"

"Blinking light," Rodney muttered, "that is so incredibly **not** helpful."

"McKay." John glared at the ceiling as if he was staring at Rodney.

"Nothing," Rodney responded not missing a beat. "But, the sensors are only calibrated for a very general, high level sweep. The East Pier isn't actively inhabited or being explored right now, so, we only run an in depth sweep once a day. That was this morning and it was normal."

"So," John concluded, "you're saying there could be something going on that you're not detecting?"

"It's possible, yes." Rodney answered. "According to the log we cataloged that area of the pier six months ago. Preliminary scans showed nothing remarkable. It appeared to be just another lab."

"Well, something's going on now," John insisted. "Could it have anything to do with having a ZPM again?"

"Maybe," Rodney's voice sounded unconvinced. "It could've been some sort of power intensive research and everything was dormant because the power requirements couldn't be met without a ZPM."

"John?" For the first time, Elizabeth spoke up as she joined the conversation. "We're reading a life sign in one of the lower corridors between the control tower and the East Pier. Is that you?"

"Yeah." John nodded, "just out for a run when I spotted this light... thing." He could almost hear Elizabeth's smile. "Rodney, can you recalibrate the sensors for a more in depth reading?"

"Of course," Rodney answered confidently, "just give me a minute."

John was silent as he stared at the faint blinking light. A suspicious feeling started in his gut and spread through him. His gaze narrowed in response. "I don't like this..."

"John?" Elizabeth answered, "what is it?"

He shook his head slightly, "I don't know. Something's just... not right." He inhaled deeply and jogged down the hallway. "Since I'm here, I'm going to check it out. I'll let you know what I find."

"John?" Elizabeth reasoned. "Maybe you should wait until Rodney scans the pier."

John kept his pace. "I won't get too close until McKay's finished," he reassured. "Besides, he'll be done by the time I get there."

"Oh really?" Rodney cut in, "and what's your basis for that assumption?"

"Your ego can't resist the challenge, Rodney," John quipped. He smiled as Rodney's sigh came back over the radio.

"Very funny," Rodney groused. "Re-calibration complete. Scanning."

"See?" John's smile turned to a grin.

"Do you want to know the results or not!" Rodney snapped hotly.

"Rodney," Elizabeth interceded, "I'd like to know what you've found, please."

John stopped in front of the main bulkhead door to the East Pier, his hands on his hips as he listened intently.

"In depth sweep shows a slight power surge in section C-6," Rodney paused before continuing, "but nothing alarming. The power spike is well below anything I'd consider dangerous."

John pursed his lips for a moment. "Well, something was turned on."

"Obviously!" Rodney responded. "I didn't say nothing happened, I just said it doesn't appear to be dangerous."

"Okay," John swept his hand over the door crystal and started down the long corridor into the East Pier. "I'll take a look just to make sure..."

"Right!" Rodney interrupted, "like you'd be able to tell what you're looking at!"

"That's why," John continued, his tone slightly annoyed, "you're going to stay on the radio and get your butt down here, McKay." He softened his tone. "Elizabeth? You okay with this?"

A silent moment passed before she responded. "Yes. We need to know for sure it's nothing urgent. But," she added, "be careful please and stay in radio contact."

John smiled slightly. "Sure." He increased his speed from a walk to an easy jog, deciding to use the excursion to slowly cool his tired body. Before long he stopped in front of a closed door and tapped his radio. "I'm here. Section C-6. Reading anything else?"

This time it was Zelenka's voice that answered. "Rodney is on his way to you, Colonel. There are no changes in sensor readings."

John nodded slightly. "McKay? What's your ETA?"

"About ten minutes," Rodney responded immediately.

"Ten?" John arched his brow and smiled mischievously, "what's taking so long?"

"Oh pardon me, Mr. I Run Miles Every Day! You're a bit far off you know, and we don't have the transporters in the East Pier active since no one is supposed to be there!" Rodney snapped back.

John kept smiling. "I'm going to take a look around and no, I won't touch anything. High tail it, McKay." He passed his hand over the door crystal and stepped back as the door, slowly creaked open. He entered the lab and looked around as the city sensors detected him, brought up the lights slightly and closed the door behind him. Something caught his foot and he reached out, steadying himself on a nearby console as he regained his balance. John looked around, noting various bits of debris and overturned consoles. "Took some damage here at one time or another," he commented absently.

"That's consistent with the log," Rodney answered, "probably happened during the storm a year ago. The Engineering team signed off on the structural soundness though."

John nodded as his gaze zeroed in on the control panel in question, the bright light on its surface continuing to blink as he walked over to it. He stared down at the light as it turned to a steady amber glow. "It's not blinking anymore..."

"Colonel?" Zelenka's mildly concerned voice cut him off, "power levels are increasing."

"Well, the lights came on, is that it?" He suspected he knew the answer Zalenka would give him as his gaze narrowed at the lit console.

"No," Zelenka immediately responded, "power levels are now increasing exponentially."

John looked up as on the heels of Zelenka's statement, a hum, faint at first, but growing in intensity, reverberated around him. "I don't like this. I'm getting out of here until we know more." He turned and swiftly walked to the door. Passing his hand over the crystal, his frown deepened as nothing happened. "Okay, this is a problem."

"John?" Elizabeth immediately responded, "what is it?"

"The door's jammed," John waved his hand over the crystals again. "Not budging."

"Colonel, the power levels are reaching critical. You need to get out of there."

John grimaced at the tension he heard in Zelenka's voice. "Working on it. McKay! Where the hell are you?"

"We're just coming to the main entrance to the East Pier," Rodney immediately responded. "What did you touch?"

"Nothing!" He snapped as he again waved his hand over the door crystal. All around him the humming increased in volume as the lights brightened. "How do I hotwire the door?" he demanded.

"Pull off the cover panel. You should see three crystals, pull the second one."

John quickly removed the cover panel and paused. "Three?" he questioned, "I see... seven."

"Seven?" Rodney's voice cracked slightly. "That's not right."

John ground his teeth, flinching as the panel behind him sparked wildly. "I don't give a damn if it's right or not, that's what I'm seeing!" Cold dread crept into his gut as he felt the floor beneath his feet start to vibrate. At the same time an Ancient alarm started blaring loudly. "Oh that can't be good..." he muttered. "Rodney? Now would be a good time for you to get here!"

"Stand by we're... what the...?" Rodney's voice trailed off.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth beat John to the inquiry.

"The main door to the East Pier just closed on us," Rodney instantly responded, his tone clearly distracted. "Trying to get it open now. Stand by. Radek! Shut down power to the East Pier, now!"

"I cannot. Something is preventing me from interfering." Zelenka answered.

"Great," John groused. He turned and trotted back to the control panel. "Maybe there's an off switch here..."

"Don't touch it!" Rodney's voice immediately answered, "you have no clue what you're doing!"

"Somehow," John reflexively threw his arms in front of his face warding off a shower of sparks from a nearby console, "I don't think that's my biggest problem right now!"

"Say's the woefully uniformed!" Rodney snapped back. "Just... don't! I'll be there in a minute!"

"Not sure I got one!" John's gaze fixed on the console as the whining increased in pitch adding its tone to the blaring Ancient alarm. Dread swarmed through him, his instincts screaming their warning. "Aw, Crap..." He ducked just as the panel exploded, the force propelling him against the wall. His head hit hard and stars danced in his vision as he slumped to the floor. Pain exploded through his shoulder its effect redoubling as his legs and chest added their voices to the chorus. He faintly heard McKay shouting to him in the radio, but he swore he'd left his voice where he'd been standing. It was an odd thought, but one he didn't have a chance to ponder as blackness veiled him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow! The reviews have been so incredible. Thank you so much! I'm glad so many people are enjoying the story. :D_

Hazily, he wondered where the bees came from because their persistent buzzing did nothing to calm the throbbing in his head as John fought his way back towards consciousness. He tried to lift his left arm, only to choke on his own breath as the fire of pain raced through his body. As he took a couple careful breaths, he realized the only good thing about the pain was that it had jarred him back to awareness. He swallowed hard and opened his eyes. The room was nearly dark, as the dim, surviving lights cast an eerie glow around him. On the air was a definite burnt odor; the kind of thing you smell when you have an electrical fire. _Or overload the Christmas tree lights..._ he briefly contemplated, remembering one interesting Christmas when he was a kid...

"John, please respond!"

He blinked, the concerned female voice forcing him back to clarity. _Focus!_ It was only then that he realized two things. One: there was an uncomfortably heavy weight pinning his legs and part of his lower torso. Two: His backside and legs were cold... as in wet cold... _as in seawater..._ he sighed again, wincing at the pain in his chest. _That's three things..._

"John, answer me... please."

_Make that four... Elizabeth._ He'd learned his lesson about his left arm the hard way so he slowly lifted his right hand and awkwardly reached across his face to tap the radio headset situated on his left ear. "Sheppard…" he managed.

"Oh thank god!" Rodney's voice immediately responded. "We felt the explosion even from here! What the hell happened?"

"Rodney." Elizabeth cut him off. "John? Are you okay?"

John shifted his weight, barely able to move underneath the large chunk of debris that pinned him, but it was enough to send a wave of pain through him. He hissed in response. "Been... better," he answered through clenched teeth. Something tickled the side of his mouth and he licked his lips in response. He grimaced at the metallic taste of blood and reached up, gently prodding a freely bleeding cut on his cheek. He moved his hand behind his head and pressed on the tender the knot on the back of his skull. His fingers came away sticky and he didn't need to see them to know he was bleeding.

"Colonel," Carson's voice took the place of Elizabeth's. "'Tis Beckett."

"Hey, Doc," John tried to smile slightly, "don't suppose... I can interest you in... a house call?"

"Soon as I can, lad. I'm on my way to the East Pier right now." Carson's voice was gentle and reassuring. "Can ye tell me where ye are injured?"

John pulled in as deep a breath as he could and swallowed against a wave of nausea. "Yeah..." he blinked hard, trying to remember the question. "What..."

"Colonel, did ye hit your head?" Carson's voice was still gentle but there was a note of urgency to it.

_Oh, right._ John nodded slightly. "Yeah, cracked it pretty... good. Bleeding. Sorry. Little scrambled..." He blinked hard and forced himself to focus.

"'Tis all right, son," Carson reassured, "what else hurts?"

John reached for his left shoulder, his hand once again encountering the stickiness of blood, before his fingers bumped into something cold and hard. He stared at the jagged edge of a piece of metal embedded in his shoulder just below the collar bone and couldn't stop the grunt of pain that escaped him.

"Colonel?" Carson immediately responded. "What is it?"

"There's a piece... of shrapnel lodged in... my shoulder," he panted slightly. Squeezing his eyes shut he shifted his weight, trying to ignore the pain. "Not pinning me to the wall though." He rubbed his fingers together. "Still bleeding."

"Aye," Carson sighed, "don't be moving too much and leave the shrapnel where it is. What else?"

Truthfully, John realized, he hadn't taken stock in much more of his condition than that. Pushing with his good hand against the rubble that pinned him, John shifted his legs slightly. A harsh cry of pain escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Broken..." he panted loudly. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting a floating feeling as the softness of unconsciousness tried to take him.

"Colonel?"

Carson's voice sounded distant. John struggled to speak, but only managed a quiet moan for his troubles.

"Come on, lad, stay with me," Carson urged. "What's broken?"

"John!"

Elizabeth's urgent voice snapped him back to consciousness. "Here," he muttered.

"Good," Carson's voice softened, "ye gave us a wee bit of a scare. Now, what's broken?" he repeated.

"Left... tib/fib," John managed, "some ribs. I'm pinned by something. That's it... I think."

"Certainly more than enough," Carson quipped darkly.

John's chuckle was weak. "Yeah." His right hand dropped to the floor and he closed his eyes briefly as it submerged in what he guessed was about two inches of water. "Got another problem here," he muttered.

"John? What is it?" Elizabeth's voice was heavy with concern.

He blinked, his head clearing as the pain in his body dulled slightly. "The explosion must have caused structural damage. There's a slow leak... somewhere. Water's gettin' in." With his one, good hand, he pushed hard against the rubble, but it refused to budge. "Damn. I can't move this thing." He absently sloshed his hand in the shallow water. "I'm sort of stuck here..." his voice trailed off, the implications of his statement perfectly clear: if the room continued to flood and they couldn't get to him in time...

An instinctive, primal fear pushed at him, but he pushed back, shaking his head slightly. _Keep your cool, there's lots of time here..._ "Wouldn't complain if you got... the doors open, McKay."

"Working on it." Privy to the entire conversation, Rodney's voice was devoid of any sarcasm. "I haven't been able to override the lock yet."

"Rodney?" Elizabeth responded, "Radek is working on overriding the locks from here as well. In the mean time, I'm sending a team your way with the equipment to cut through the door if we have to. John? Try to relax," Her voice was calm and controlled, "we'll get you out of there."

He smiled slightly at her reassuring tone. But even for all her professionalism, he could hear concern anyway. "I know," he responded quietly.

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Rodney punched a few keys on his data pad then looked up at the door expectantly. His gaze narrowed. "What? I don't get it."

"Stand back, McKay."

Rodney turned and took an involuntary step back as Ronon stalked towards him, Lorne and a team of Marines close behind.

"Time's up, Doc," Lorne knelt in front of the door and opened a large case. "Time to take the direct approach." He pulled a heavy duty cutting tool from one of the cases.

Carving up the city like a Thanksgiving turkey absolutely ground on Rodney's temper. "Just... wait. I think I almost have it."

"No." Ronon took a step closer to Rodney.

"Not gonna happen, McKay," Lorne's voice was level and determined, "the Colonel's trapped and injured and we're not waiting."

Rodney swallowed hard and stared at the solid door, memories of a flooded Jumper coming back to him. Sheppard had been there then, risking his life to save him. Rodney sighed and pulled his data pad connectors from the door crystals. He stepped back as Lorne put on a dark pair of goggles and fired up the cutter.

"What's the status here?"

Rodney turned and stared coldly at Carson as the doctor and his team approached. "The status is they're cutting holes in my city, that's what." Rodney glared at the back of Lorne's head as the major started cutting his way through the door.

"Rodney, the Colonel needs immediate medical attention," Carson reasoned.

"I **know** that," Rodney snapped. "They're just..." he grimaced, "cutting holes in my city," he repeated.

"Your city?" Carson's voice was darkly amused.

Rodney scowled at him "Yes! Who else understands this city like I do? You?" He snapped. He kept his expression cold as faint amusement crinkled the corners of Carson's eyes.

"Right," he sighed.

His attitude was placating, something Rodney wasn't in the mood for. "Look. You don't..."

"Quiet!" Ronon interrupted.

Rodney turned towards the big Satedan, his eyes widening as Ronon tensed before putting a hand on Lorne's shoulder.

Lorne turned off the cutting tool and looked back at Ronon.

"What?" Rodney whispered loudly, "what is it?" He wilted slightly under the scathing look Ronon gave him. _Fine... shutting up..._ he looked up as a faint thumping sound, followed by another and then another echoed from the other side of the door. _Sounds like..._ Rodney's stomach somersaulted. "Doors," he whispered. He smacked his headset. "Radek! Scan the East Pier, now!"

"What is it?" Lorne looked up at Rodney.

"If I'm right, we got a big problem," Rodney muttered.

"McKay, what?" Lorne raised his voice slightly.

"Rodney," Radek's concerned voice came back over the radio, "several bulkhead doors between you and the Colonel are closing. I cannot override the system and stop them."

"Damn it!" Rodney resisted the urge to throw down his data pad.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth's voice came over the radio.

"It's the city," Rodney responded. "Since we couldn't cut power to the East Pier, the sensors were still active. They must've detected the structural damage and flooding and sealed off the affected areas. It's a safety protocol designed to compartmentalize the breach and keep it from flooding the whole city."

"But, the doors to the room John is trapped in are shut," Elizabeth's voice was puzzled.

"They must be damaged," Rodney shook his head, "Or there's structural damage outside that room as well. At this point, it's hard to know for sure, but something triggered the bulkhead doors to close."

"According to the sensor readings, there is a slow leak in section C-7 as well," Zelenka interjected. "Must be damage along the outer wall and is probably what triggered the safety protocol."

"When this is over, we're going to have to get out there with divers and repair the outer wall," Rodney's frown deepened.

"There has to be some sort of override," Elizabeth reasoned, "otherwise, how do you rescue anyone trapped?"

"I'm sure there is," Rodney sighed in exasperation, "but I don't think we have **days** to find it in the Ancient database!"

"I am detecting six emergency bulkhead doors between you and Colonel Sheppard," Radek added.

"Six," Rodney muttered, "bit of an overkill...

"Ma'am," Lorne interrupted, "it's going to take us a good thirty minutes to cut through each door. If there's six of them, that's three hours. The Colonel..." Lorne shook his head, "I don't think the Colonel has that much time."

"Besides, there is the reality of why the bulkheads closed in the first place." Rodney added. "We'd be removing the city's protection from what could become a catastrophic flooding event if the outer hull gives way completely and there are no bulkheads to stop the water."

"Then we need another plan," Elizabeth reasoned firmly. "Can we take a Jumper and come in from the ocean side?"

"We have no idea how he's pinned," Rodney shook his head. "The compartment would flood immediately. We can't do that unless we know exactly how to free him."

"We could use rescue divers and breathing equipment," Elizabeth pressed.

"Elizabeth, given what I know of the Colonel's injuries and especially what I don't know, I doubt even he would have the stamina to survive what you're suggesting," Carson interjected. "If the flooding overwhelms him and we can't free him immediately, he'll drown."

"Can we extend the Jumper's shields to keep back the ocean?" Elizabeth offered.

"Probably not," this time Zelenka answered. "We do not fully know the condition of the outer wall. The damage is apparently more widespread than we anticipated. The shield would be unstable at best, and could collapse in on itself at worst. That would flood the compartment and subject the Jumper to the crushing pressure of the ocean. We'd loose both the Colonel and the Jumper's crew."

"He's right," Rodney affirmed. "Even micro-fissures in the outer hull could be catastrophic."

Elizabeth's frustrated sigh was clearly audible. "Find me an option C, gentlemen and quickly."

Rodney looked around for a minute, his mind racing. He let his head fall back, his gaze fixing on the ceiling. Realization dawned on him and his heart jumped in response. "That's it," he muttered.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth answered immediately. "What's it?"

"The floor... that is the ceiling..." _We need cutting tools, climbing gear, precise sensor readings..._

"Rodney!"

Elizabeth's urgent voice jarred him from his racing thoughts. "Only this level is flooding." Rodney reasoned quickly. "We go up one floor, enter the pier and reach the Colonel's exact location. Then cut through the floor to get to him."

"McKay, these floors are thick," Lorne shook his head, "that's a hell of a cutting job."

"You got a better idea?" Rodney shot back, affirming his statement with a cold glare. "Better suggest it fast, because while we stand here and argue, water is still flooding the room where Sheppard is trapped!"

Lorne waved his hand at Rodney. "I get the point. Dr. Weir I want three more teams with the heaviest cutting tools we have to meet us one level up from here. We're going to have to tag team the job if we want to cut through in time."

"We also need climbing and rescue gear to rappel down to him once we're through," Rodney added hastily.

"Whatever you need, you'll have." Elizabeth immediately answered. "Get going."

Rodney started down the hallway, Ronon right beside him and Carson's team following. "Radek," he snapped into his headset, "Get me a precise location on Colonel Sheppard."

"Precise?" Radek questioned.

"Yes!" Rodney snapped, "It'd be helpful to know exactly where he is so we don't drop the ceiling on his head!"

"Right. Scanning," Radek answered his tone unfazed.

Rodney reached the auxiliary stairwell and took the stairs two at a time. His calf muscles protested his haste and briefly, he sent annoyed thoughts at Sheppard. _Carving up my city..._ Memories of cold water creeping up his body briefly flashed through Rodney's head. He swallowed hard, pushed away the thoughts and quickened his pace.

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John's teeth chattered uncontrollably and the corresponding shivering painfully tensed his whole body. He'd been dressed for jogging; t-shirt, light jogging pants, running shoes. The water just soaked right through them, chilling him. Not that any heavier clothing would've mattered, but right now he swore he'd trade his right arm for a warm coat. _Or a warm anything..._ The only good thing about the cold, he realized, was that it dulled his pain. But, it also dulled his senses and it took all the strength he had to keep his head clear.

Edging ever higher, he guessed the water around six inches deep and still increasing. It crept under the debris pinning him, over his legs, and silently up his body. He swallowed against fear, holding tight to the knowledge that his people were coming for him and that they were doing everything in their power to get to him as fast as they could. But, part of him wondered if it would be in time.

He slumped against the wall, resting, saving his strength to stay calm and stay conscious.

"John, how are you doing?"

Elizabeth's voice was gentle, but held a note of quiet strength that he focused on. "Don't suppose... you could get me... a little hot coffee?" He stuttered. "What was the... noise I just... heard?" he asked tentatively. He really wasn't sure if he wanted to know and the long silence that followed did nothing to bolster his confidence. He closed his eyes briefly. _This can't be good... _"Elizabeth," he urged quietly.

"The city's sensors detected a hull breach," she finally answered. "Six emergency bulkhead doors between you and the entrance to the pier closed."

John clenched his jaw, momentarily silencing his chattering teeth. "Can McKay... get them... open?"

"Not easily, no," Elizabeth answered firmly, "and Major Lorne believes it'll take too long to cut through them. With the rate the water is rising, by the time they got there..." her voice trailed off.

"Yeah," John answered softly, fighting a renewed instinctive panic that tried to consume him. "So, what's the... plan?"

"They're going up one level, where the bulkheads are still opened and going to cut through the floor to reach you."

"Floor..." John's voice cracked slightly. "Big... job."

"We're bringing in three more teams and the heaviest cutting tools we have," Elizabeth's voice took on a reassuring note. "We'll get to you, just hold on."

John smiled slightly. "Is that an... order, Doctor?" In his mind's eye he could see the determined smile on Elizabeth's face.

"It is, Colonel, and you better follow it."

In spite of his chattering teeth, John managed to keep his small smile. "Yes... ma'am."


	3. Chapter 3

_You guys and your reviews are just amazing. :D Thank you so much!_

Rodney slowed his pace, his eyes never leaving the Life Signs Detector in his hand. "Almost..." he muttered.

"Rodney you are nearly there," Zelenka's voice followed on the heels of his mutterings.

Rodney abruptly stopped and stared down at the smooth floor, his eyes fixing on one spot. It looked the same as everywhere else; the surface finished and dark, yet this spot was different. "Radek?" He asked. He didn't need to voice his question; it was the only thing on any of their minds.

"Yes. That is the spot."

"That's it," Rodney pointed directly down. "Sheppard's right there."

Lorne quickly stepped around him and wasted no time setting up his cutting tool. As he shoved a pair of dark glasses on his face, three more soldiers came down the hallway, large cases in their hands. Lorne briefly looked up. "Jorgenson, Meyers, Harris. We'll need about a five foot hole, right here." He waved his hand in a circle. "Where McKay is standing is where Colonel Sheppard is, so we need to be just past his position so nothing falls on him. Get to it." Lorne looked back down and fired up his cutting tool.

It didn't take the men long to set up. Jorgenson took a position parallel to Lorne while Meyers and Harris took adjacent spots.

"Elizabeth," Rodney spoke into his headset. "We're cutting through now."

"Copy that, Rodney," Elizabeth responded. "Any idea how long this is going to take?"

This time, Lorne answered. "No, ma'am, not yet, we just got started. I'll let you know when we have a better idea."

"Thank you, Major." Elizabeth's voice was tense.

"Elizabeth," Carson interjected, "how's the Colonel?"

Rodney exchanged worried glances with Carson at Elizabeth's long pause.

"Not good, Carson," Elizabeth finally responded quietly.

"Aye," Carson sighed loudly. "Have Radek put me through to him." Ever since the accident, they'd switched communication frequencies, in order to be able to communicate freely without the Colonel overhearing anything that would be better if he didn't know.

"Stand by, Carson," Elizabeth answered. After a moment she spoke again. "Go ahead."

Rodney paced quietly biting back the urge to speak as Sheppard's slurred voice came over the radio.

"Doc?"

Rodney glanced at Carson, whose face was a solid mask of professionalism.

"Aye, Colonel. How ye holding up, lad?"

"Not one... of my best... days," Sheppard's voice was hitched and broken. "A little cold... here."

Rodney's grip on the LSD was white knuckled as he stopped his pacing and stared at the floor. Privy to the entire conversation, Lorne and his men, nonetheless continued at their task. Rodney ground his teeth and started pacing again, chafing against the helplessness he felt.

"I know, Colonel," Carson reassured. "We're working on getting to ye now. Lorne, Meyers, Harris and Jorgenson are cutting through the floor as we speak. It shouldn't be long now."

"I know. Can hear... ya." Sheppard replied quietly. "Water level's... still rising," he added.

"How deep is it?" Rodney halted, mid stride and interjected himself into the conversation.

"Deeper... than I'd like."

Sheppard's reply was vague at best and Rodney swallowed hard, fighting an unexpected surge of fear within him. He didn't know what to say and stared at Carson in panic. His view was momentarily blocked as Ronon strode past him and looked down over Lorne's shoulder.

"Lorne!" Ronon snapped.

Undeterred by the imposing Satedan, Lorne never looked up from his work. "Going as fast as we can, Ronon."

"Go faster," Ronon demanded as he turned away and braced both hands against the wall.

"Colonel," Carson's tone was calm and reassuring. "We're going to get to ye in time. Just concentrate on staying awake and keeping your head out of the water, okay?"

"Doin' my best," Sheppard responded.

"Aye, lad," Carson closed his eyes for a moment. "Hang in there, we're coming. Beckett out."

Rodney still didn't know what to say as he silently exchanged worried looks with Carson.

"Damn it!"

Lorne's voice grabbed Rodney's attention. He turned and looked at the major. "What?" What's wrong?"

Lorne never stopped his work. "This is taking way longer than I expected. It's going to take us at least an hour to cut a hole in this floor."

"An hour?" Rodney's voice cracked as the fear flowing through him surged to life again. "You heard Sheppard! The water's still rising and in case you didn't notice, he's still trapped!"

"Rodney," Elizabeth chastised firmly. "Major would more teams help?"

"No ma'am," Lorne responded. "It's not the lack of manpower, it's the thickness of the floors. But, we knew this was going to be a hell of a cutting job."

"Rodney, is there any way we can slow or stop the leak?" Elizabeth asked tensely.

"Perhaps we could increase the air pressure within the room," Radek offered, "that would slow the water."

"One problem," Rodney interjected. "We don't know the extent of the damage to the hull. The additional pressure could easily cause a breach and flood the entire compartment."

"Can we take a jumper and repair the breech from the outside?" Elizabeth asked hopefully.

"Theoretically, yes," Rodney answered, "but it'll take much longer than the Colonel has to even identify the breach, get a team outfitted and out to the location…"

"I get the point," Elizabeth interrupted. "Do your best."

"Doing it." Rodney answered as he stared down at Lorne and the others and felt utterly helpless.

--------------------------------

Seawater splashed his face and John coughed violently, the moment of panic jerking him back awareness. "Damn it," he muttered as he lifted his head slightly, his face clearing the water. It covered most of his body now and still it crept higher. He looked up, watching the occasional spark make it through the floor from above as Lorne's team continued cutting. He could see the red of hot metal as the cutters mercilessly pushed through the floor, but inside him panic grew as he wondered if they'd make it in time.

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the fear away and replacing it with calmness. Water lapped at his chin and he realized that, laying against the wall, he'd soon be submerged. Reaching up he tapped his radio. "Elizabeth," he managed to find his voice.

"John? I'm here," Elizabeth immediately responded.

"I'm not going… to have a free hand to call on… the radio before… long." John closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to get past the cold stutter in his voice. "Have to leave it… on."

"John?" Elizabeth's voice took on a new level of worry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Beyond the… obvious?" He quipped weakly.

"Okay," she conceded, her voice lightening some as she apparently tried to play along with his half hearted attempts to ease the mood, "what else is wrong?"

John pulled in a stuttering breath. "Have to use my one… good hand to hold myself out… of the water." He could barely hear the sigh she tried to stifle. "Hey…" he continued. "I'm still… here, okay?" In his minds eye he could see her strained smile.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to do the reassuring, not the other way around." She responded quietly.

"You suck at bedside… manner, remember?" he chuckled quietly. Taking a deep breath, John sat up and, with his right hand, grabbed a tight hold on the rubble that pinned him. He couldn't quite stifle the hiss of pain that escaped him as he jostled his wounded left shoulder. "Damn it."

"John?"

He swallowed hard and took a few breaths. "Still… here."

"John I…" Elizabeth's voice trailed off for a second before she continued. "I don't know what else to say except we're coming for you, as fast as we can."

"So," his voice cracked slightly, "along with bad bedside… manner, you also suck at… the whole 'comforting victims in… crisis situations' thing."

"Yeah," she whispered. "John? You have to hang on."

He smiled slightly at the pleading note in her voice. "Doin'… my best." He let his head fall forward and he rested his cheek against the cold, wet metal. He stared at the knuckles of his right hand, willing his grip to hold steady. He could feel the water creeping up his waist but he tried to shut it out of his mind.

"_Sea water's cold, gentlemen, damn cold!"_

He wasn't really sure why, but all the sudden he was remembering his training on ocean crashes and survival and the voice of the staunch Colonel that had instructed his class in flight school echoed clearly in his head. Until now, he never really appreciated what the colonel had been saying. The chill of water crept into his skin and seemingly all the way through him, silently but doggedly sapping his strength. His gaze again focused on his knuckles as if his piercing glare would will more strength into his hand's grip. Faintly, he could feel the burn of fatigue in his arm, but he shut it out, blocked it from his mind and smothered it with his willpower to survive.

"John?"

Elizabeth's voice sounded distant to him, but he answered anyway. "Here," he whispered.

"John, stay awake for me." She urged.

"Trying…" his gaze never left his right hand as his knuckles became the focal point, not only for his strength to hang on, but for his tedious grip on consciousness as well. His eyelids tried to close, but he forced them open; forced his eyes to take in ever detail of his pale, water-wrinkled skin. He wouldn't give up… not without a fight.

-------------------------------

Ronon paced, his heavy footsteps echoing as he once again passed behind Lorne's position. Ronon's mouth twitched as he resisted the urge to bury his fist in a nearby wall. His friend was injured, trapped maybe dying and he was powerless to do anything to help. "Lorne!" he snapped.

"Yelling at him isn't going to make this go any faster!" Rodney interrupted, his own frustration clearly evident.

"We're making progress," Lorne's voice was distracted as he continued cutting.

Footsteps in the hallway momentarily grabbed Ronon's attention. He looked up as Teyla ran towards him.

"Thought you were on the mainland," Ronon arched his brows.

"Sergeant Miller flew me back as soon as we received word about Colonel Sheppard. Radek briefed me on the situation on our way here. How is he?"

Ronon took a moment to absorb the worry he saw in Teyla's face before he responded. "Still trapped, the water is still rising and we still can't get to him." Again, Ronon had to exercise restraint not to punch the wall.

Teyla looked at Carson. "How badly is he injured?"

"Hard to know, love," Carson responded. "At least a few broken bones and a piece of shrapnel lodged in his shoulder," he sighed. "By now, he's probably hypothermic as well."

The worry lines on Teyla's face deepened. "I see."

"We're almost through," Lorne commented as he paused in cutting and banged his fist on the floor experimentally.

Ronon's brow quirked and he tensed an instant before he took two giant steps and with a loud shout jumped on the cut section of the floor as hard as he could. The solid floor vibrated under his feet and rattled his teeth but held strong.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lorne shouted as he and his men jumped back.

"Thought you said you were almost through," Ronon stepped off the cut piece of floor as they resumed cutting.

"Oh, smart, Conan!" Rodney snapped. "And what if the floor would've given way?"

"Then I'd be down there helping Sheppard."

"Not if you broke your barbaric neck you wouldn't be!" Rodney retorted.

Ronon glared at him for a moment before snagging one of the packs and pulling out a climbing harness. "I'm the first one down," he stated plainly. "You follow me, Doc," he nodded once at Carson.

"Aye," Carson sighed. He looked down at Lorne. "Major?"

"Ten minutes, tops." Lorne replied.


	4. Chapter 4

_I remain hugely flattered at the words said to me in reviews. Thank you so much! ((HUGS))_

John floated... at least he felt like he was. All his strength was focused on one thing: the grip he had on the rubble, his grip on life. His hand had long since gone numb, much like the rest of his body but he knew he still held tight, his fingers cramped into a grip that he couldn't... wouldn't let go. Water lapped at his chin, its deadly march bringing it ever closer to consuming him. His eyelids slid shut as hope began to flee from him. Above, he could still hear the constant hiss of the cutters as Lorne's team feverishly worked to reach him, but as the water crested his chin and crept towards his mouth cold dread consumed him. "Dad..." he whispered, his mind latching onto the one family member he had left and the pain his death would cause.

"John? John! Answer me!"

He forced himself to take a deep breath and open his eyes as Elizabeth's urgent hail pulled him back to awareness. "Here..." he mumbled. Any more words were just too much effort, but apparently that was all Elizabeth needed.

"Keep talking to me, John," Elizabeth urged. "Lorne's team is almost through the floor. Just hang on a little longer."

The dread fled from him, replaced, oddly enough, by a quiet calmness; an acceptance of what was coming. Somehow, his disjointed thoughts rationalized everything. He was weak. It'd be fast. "Dad... sorry..." he said softly.

"John!" Elizabeth immediately responded. "Don't start talking like that!"

He heard the pain in her voice and tried to reassure her but only a light moan escaped him. He felt like he was falling, and her voice was echoing down a long tunnel. He thought he heard something about staying awake and a loud crash above him but he couldn't tell as his strength, sapped by injury, blood loss and cold, finally gave way. His grip broke, and he felt the water take him.

------------------------------

"We're through!" Lorne tossed the cutter aside as the large section of cut floor broke free. "Colonel Sheppard?" Lorne stuck his head through the opening. "I can't see him!"

Ronon took a moment to look over Lorne's shoulder. "Move!" He snapped as he dropped the coil of rope he'd had in his hands. Taking a step back, he ran forward and jumped.

"Ronon, wait!"

Behind him, Ronon heard Teyla's call but ignored her. Not that he could've heeded her anyway, because with one giant step he leapt through the hole feet first. He briefly touched on a large piece of rubble before letting his momentum carry him to the floor. Absorbing the shock with his knees, Ronon landed on his feet and fell into a squat, half submerging himself in cold ocean water. He immediately stood up straight his gaze narrowing at the spot where Sheppard should've been. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut as instead of his friend's trapped form, Ronon saw nothing but water. "Sheppard!" Sloshing through the thigh-deep water as fast as he could he rounded a large piece of rubble, fell to his knees and plunged his arms into the water. His hands encountered the softness of fabric and he pulled, hauling his friend to the surface with a hoarse shout.

Ronon edged up behind John and rested the colonel's back against his chest, carefully avoiding the shrapnel. "Sheppard!" He tightened his arms hard around Sheppard's stomach.

Abruptly, a choked cough convulsed the colonel and Ronon had to hold tight to him as he doubled over in a coughing fit. Ronon's grip was resolute, keeping his friend's head and shoulders out of the water as Sheppard hacked violently, before drawing in a hoarse, labored breath. His head fell back against Ronon's shoulder. His breathing was rapid and loud, punctuate by coughing.

"Ro... non?" he wheezed finally.

Ronon glanced up as first Teyla then Beckett rappelled down through the hole. He cocked his head and looked down at John. "Yep."

"Cut it... close..." John slurred.

Ronon quirked a brow in dark amusement his attention grabbed by another voice.

"Bloody hell that's cold!"

A smile briefly touched Ronon's mouth at Carson's outburst, but he said nothing as Carson splashed up next to them. The doctor set his bag on a high piece of rubble and looked down at John.

"Colonel? Can ye hear me, son?" He rubbed his knuckles on John's sternum eliciting a moan from him.

"Doc..." John's voice was barely above a whisper.

Teyla hit the call button on her radio. "Dr. Weir, this is Teyla. We have Colonel Sheppard. He is alive."

Ronon glanced up at Teyla as Weir's voice answered them.

"Thank god. What's his condition?"

This time, Carson spoke. "He's semi conscious, hypothermic and still trapped. I can't do much for him until we get him out of here. The only good thing about the hypothermia is it's seemed to slow the bleeding in his shoulder."

"Dr. Weir," Lorne broke into the conversation as he splashed through the water towards Sheppard. "We're going to need a couple teams of men and some equipment to free the colonel. Our best bet is to set up above, tie off the rubble that's pinning him and lift it just enough to get him free."

"Understood."

"Elizabeth," Rodney slowly made his way down through the hole, "we're on a clock here. The water's still rising. Ronon's holding Sheppard out of the water. That's bought him some time, but we need to get him free fast."

"Teams are on their way, Rodney." Elizabeth immediately responded.

"Ah!" Rodney's voice cracked as his lower body entered the water. "He would choose near freezing seawater to get hurt…" Rodney's voice trailed off as his gaze fixed on John. Without another word he quickly untied himself from the rappel line.

Ronon looked down at his friend again. "Sheppard?" He shook the man gently. "Hey!"

"Wha..."

Ronon shook him again as John moaned, but his eyes stayed shut. Ronon looked up as Teyla knelt next to the Colonel and put her hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"John, you must stay awake." Teyla's voice was gentle but determined.

"Teyla..." John whispered.

"Jorgenson!" Lorne called up through the hole. "Teams and equipment are on their way here! You three give them a hand."

Ronon held tight to John, staunchly turning out the cold that seeped into him. His scowl deepened, hiding the concern he felt. The normally robust colonel was limp and still in his arms and it did nothing to make Ronon feel any better. He looked up at Carson. "Doc?"

"Aye, working on it," Carson answered absently. He pulled a couple of thick pressure bandages from his pack, sighed and squatted down further into the water next to John. He carefully placed the bandages around the shrapnel and secured them. "That should immobilize it for now until we can get him into surgery and remove it." Carson placed his hand on Sheppard's brow. "Damn son, you've done a number on yourself this time," he said quietly.

"Car-son?" John muttered.

"Aye, lad. Hang in there, we'll get you out." Carson's hand moved to John's neck as he took his pulse.

Ronon scooted closer to John and lifted him slightly higher as the water level inched up. He stared hard at Lorne. "Where are they?"

Lorne looked up through the hole. "The teams should be here any minute. Jorgenson!" He called loudly. "Double time it as soon as the equipment gets here, the water's still getting deeper!"

"Ah ha!"

Ronon's attention was grabbed by Rodney's exclamation. He turned his head, and watched the doctor slosh through the water along the far wall of the room. "What?"

"Found the leak," Rodney replied. He stared at the LSD in his hand before punching a couple buttons and traversing the wall with it. "Good thing we didn't try to use the jumper shield. There are several cracks all along here. Its amazing the wall didn't give way completely." He looked back at John. "I swear he carries a rabbit's foot or something..."

"Not... from living... right," John stuttered, his eyes slightly clearer.

"Colonel?" Carson knelt next to John.

"How about... getting' me out of... here?" John said quietly.

Ronon looked up, as voices and the clatter of metal came from above them. He drew in a deep breath and nodded to himself.

"Working on that as we speak, Colonel," Carson answered. He looked over his shoulder. "Lorne, have those boys send down the stokes basket. As soon as the Colonel is free, we'll have to secure him and lift him out."

"Right," Lorne nodded. He stepped back as the coiled ends of three stout ropes dropped down through the hole followed by the clatter of two chains. Lorne pulled the ends out of the water and looped the ropes and the chains over his arm. Sloshing through the water, he walked up to the rubble and threw the ropes and chains on top. "There're six Marines up there with a winch. We should be able to lift this just enough to get the Colonel free."

------------------

Elizabeth paced across the control room again, silent but listening to everything on the radio as Lorne's teams worked to free John. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as she reached out and grabbed the balcony railing for support. Her people were there helping him, but deep down, she was still scared. The panic that had struck her when John had stopped answering still lingered in her heart. In that one moment, the stark clarity of just how much she relied on his strength and support struck her. So many times they'd disagreed and argued over policy and actions, but in spite of it all, he was always there supporting her, regardless of whether he agreed with her or not.

In that one moment when she thought she'd lost him, the feeling of being alone was nearly as terrifying as believing he was dead. She opened her eyes and stared down at the Stargate. But, he was still there, still alive. She tempered her relief with guarded caution. He was still trapped, injured and far from being stable and out of the woods. Yet, her relief stuck with her. He wasn't alone. His team was there along with Carson and Lorne. She had faith in her people and knew if anyone could help him, they could. Taking a deep breath, she turned back towards the control room and listened, as they prepared to move the rubble and free John.

----------------------------

At Carson's request, four of the marines came down to help them. He sighed as he watched the men trudge through the water. Given the close quarters and how the colonel was pinned, this was going to be tricky and no matter how they did it, painful for him. Ideally, Carson would have the colonel strapped to a backboard and his leg already immobilized, but the water, rubble and odd angle of how he was trapped prevented Carson from doing much for proper rescue and made the situation one that was far from ideal. He looked down at John. _He's a tough lad... I hope it's enough..._

"Okay, Doc," Lorne's voice caught Carson's attention. "We're as ready as we'll ever be."

"Right," Carson sighed as he looked at Ronon. "As soon as he's free, pull him out, but be gentle about it. He's got at least a broken leg maybe other injuries and I don't want to jostle him too much; and watch that shoulder."

Ronon nodded curtly. "Do my best."

Carson's smile to John was thin but reassuring. "Colonel, I won't lie to you lad, this is going to hurt, but we'll be as gentle as we can."

John's blink was heavy and slow. "No... choice."

Carson held his small smile at the spark of resolute strength he saw in John's eyes. "Aye, there is that. Try to relax and let us do all the work." He slipped his hands under John's injured shoulder. "Teyla, come over to this side, love. When we pull him free, try to keep that broken leg from moving any more than necessary. Major?" He turned his gaze to Lorne. "Support his hips on that side as Ronon pulls him out. We want to keep him as still and straight as possible." Carson's gaze found Rodney. "Rodney, help Lorne. Steady the colonel's legs. We're going to have to lift and turn him to the right and towards you and the major to get him free and we don't have a lot of room to work here."

Uncharacteristically silent, Rodney took his position next to Lorne.

Carson waved at the Marines. "You boys get that stokes and hold it out of the water. I don't want to lift and move him more than we have to, so we're doing this all in one shot. We'll lift him free and put him right into the stokes." He glanced at Lorne. "The rest of us will hold it out of the water while you get it secured to a line and we'll get him out of here."

Lorne nodded. "Sounds good, Doc. We should have more than enough manpower to lift the colonel out." He looked up towards the hole. "Jorgenson! We're set. Easy now!"

Carson tensed as the heavy rubble creaked and moved slightly upwards. He looked down at John. "Can ye feel if you're free?"

John's gaze turned distant. "Numb..." he tensed as he tried to move his lower body and hissed in pain. "Not... yet."

Carson slid his hands further under John's shoulder. "Aye, try not to move too much."

"Keep going, Jorgenson!" Lorne shouted.

Again the rubble creaked ominously and moved slightly higher.

"That's... it," John tensed and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Hold it there!" Lorne ordered to the men above.

"All right," Carson briefly looked at each of his helpers. "One, two, three." He lifted and supported John's shoulder as Ronon lifted and pulled the colonel free. He clenched his jaw as John couldn't quite stifle a shout of pain as they shifted him out from under the rubble. "Easy now and turn." As he moved towards Ronon, Carson tried to tune out another barely stifled groan from John. Slowly, the group maneuvered John out from behind the rubble. Carson looked down at the colonel's face as his body went limp. "That's it, he's out. Let's get him in the stokes before he comes around."

The three marines had the stokes braced against another piece of rubble and were holding fast to three sides, freeing up one side of the basket for Carson and his group to gently lay the Colonel in it. "Easy..." Carson absently cautioned as they carefully laid him down. Ronon was the last to let go as he supported John's head and gently lay him completely flat in the basket. "All right," Carson's voice was terse as his fingers found John's carotid pulse. "Get him secured and let's get him out of here."

With several sets of adept hands working it didn't take long to rig the stokes to be lifted out. Carson stepped back and watched as the marines above slowly lifted John from the room. Slight relief touched him as he watched the stokes ascend. To say the hard part was over wasn't entirely accurate. They'd freed John, but his condition was grave at best. Carson sloshed through the water and grabbed his bag. "I need to be the first out." He didn't bother explaining himself, not that he needed to.

Lorne grabbed a rope and quickly tied it to Carson's harness as the doctor shrugged into his backpack.

Grabbing the rope with both hands, Carson settled back in his harness as the marines quickly lifted him out.

No sooner than his feet touched the ground, Carson quickly untied himself from the rope and moved to John's side. His medical team had already placed the colonel's stokes on a waiting stretcher. A couple medics were busy cutting his soaked clothing off him, while another was splinting his leg. A nurse took John's vitals as Carson worked his way into the group. "Condition?"

"BP is 80/60, heart rate bradycardic at 50. Temp: 89 degrees."

Carson nodded and looked back at one of the medics. "As soon as you have those clothes cut away get some blankets over him and let's start a warm saline IV." He bent low, his face inches from John's. "Colonel? Can ye hear me, son?" He rubbed his knuckles on John's sternum, nodding slightly at the faint moan of pain he got in response. "He's not too far gone, but bad enough. He'll need a blood transfusion when he warms up some." He tapped his radio. "Infirmary, this is Beckett. We're en route with Colonel Sheppard. Prep the OR for immediate surgery. Page Dr. Mickels. I want an orthopedic surgeon scrubbing in. Have a unit of the colonel's blood type on hand as well as two liters of IV saline warmed."

"IV started," his nurse, Janet pulled the tourniquet from John's right arm.

"Aye, let's go." Taking one edge of the stretcher, Carson and his team swiftly wheeled John down the hallway to the infirmary.


	5. Chapter 5

_My apologies for the delay in finishing this story, I got a new computer and have been working with that for the last week or so ;) Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews. I'm deeply flattered at the comments:) Honestly, it really gives me great joy and satisfaction to know that people enjoy reading what I write. Thank you._

From the flurry of activity in that surrounded Elizabeth the minute she set foot in the infirmary, it was instantly apparent to her that Carson's team had only barely beat her there. She stood in the doorway for a moment, unable to tear her gaze from the gurney that held John and the brief glimpses of him she managed to see around bustling medical personnel. Her eyes drifted up to a steadfast Carson standing next to John's bed calmly but crisply issuing orders. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of John's face and she swallowed hard at the pale expressionless face that greeted her eyes. He looked so still... deathly still. Elizabeth drew in a deep breath. That wasn't far from the truth. She closed her eyes a moment as her thoughts touched on how close they'd come to losing him.

Looking across the room, Elizabeth spotted Ronon, Teyla and Rodney and she silently crossed the room to them. Her eyes passed over each of them before she nodded slightly. "Well done, all of you."

Even Rodney was uncharacteristically silent and, like Teyla and Ronon, settled for a quiet nod.

Elizabeth turned towards John's bed. "How is he?"

"Carson hasn't said much besides 'stay out of the way, Rodney'," Rodney said dryly. "Maybe you'd have better luck."

Elizabeth's smile was thin. "Probably not. Best let him come to us." She crossed her arms and stood silently with John's team and watched.

It seemed like an eternity before Carson slowly walked towards them. He looped his stethoscope over his shoulders and smiled slightly.

"Carson?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"He's stable for now," Carson sighed. "He's still suffering from moderate hypothermia and there's the shrapnel and broken leg to deal with. He also has three broken ribs, a concussion and numerous bruises, contusions and cuts, but those are minor in comparison. He's going to be sore for a long time."

"Are you taking him into surgery soon?" Teyla asked.

Carson shook his head. "Not right away. His temperature is still too low to risk it. Hypothermia has touchy effects on the body not the least of which is increasing the chances of a heart arrhythmia or even cardiac arrest if the body suffers any sudden trauma such as setting a broken bone or even removing that shrapnel."

"He would," Rodney muttered, "Sheppard never does anything the easy way."

"Rodney," Carson sighed.

Elizabeth let her reprimand die on her lips as she stared intently at the worry lines that creased Rodney's face. Having built such an impressive wall around himself over the years, Rodney never was good at handling his emotions when he came into situations involving people he cared about... not that he'd ever admit how much John meant to him as a friend. _Or vice versa..._ she thought wryly.

"The long and short of this is," Carson continued, "he needs to get a wee bit warmer before we take him into surgery." He absently scratched the back of his head. "Beyond the obvious method of using warm dry blankets he's also on a warm IV. That should help bring up his core temperature quicker."

Elizabeth looked past Carson, her gaze settling again on John as she absorbed the doctor's words. After a minute, she nodded. "Do what you need to," she said quietly.

-------------------------------------------

The warm sun on his brow felt good... really good. He'd been so cold for so long. Slowly, John drew in a deep cleansing breath.

"John?"

John's brow twitched at the female voice close by. He tried to say something but, in spite of his effort, he was pretty sure nothing more than a quiet moan came from him.

"Carson? He's coming around."

_Carson... the lab... trapped!_ It was only then that John put two and two together. His eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply, his body tensing reflexively. The pain that shot through his body was immediate and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. He drew in a ragged breath as he felt a warm, gentle hand on his forearm.

"John? It's okay. You're safe now."

"'lizabeth..." he peeled his eyes opened again and stared up at his 'sun'; a bright, warm light positioned over his body. He felt the weight of several blankets as the pain faded from his body. "doesn't hurt..."

"Aye. I gave ye something to help that, Colonel."

John slowly turned his head towards the voice and tried to find a small smile. "Carson," he whispered. His gaze refocused on the shrapnel still embedded in his shoulder, barely visible around the thick bandages that immobilized it. "Shoulder..."

Carson stopped next to his bed and smiled reassuringly. "We haven't got that far yet, Colonel. You were pretty hypothermic when we brought ye out. Too risky to try major surgery or set your leg until your temperature moderated a wee bit." His smile widened slightly. "You're just about there, son. We'll have ye fixed up in no time."

He felt a touch on his hand and his gaze left Carson to settle on Teyla who smiled gently at him.

"It is good to see you awake, John." She said quietly.

He nodded slightly and tried to give her a small smile. He looked up at Ronon as the big Satedan walked up behind Teyla. As groggy as John felt, he still made eye contact with Ronon. Memories of cold water, failing strength and death whispering to him dampened his smile. He'd been so close; the blackness of water shrouding him... until something found him; grabbed him, snatched him back to the living. He could still feel strong hands on his shirt, hear Ronon's voice and feel his unwavering support as John fought his way back from death's doorstep. He swallowed hard and let a slight smile once again turn up part of his mouth. Even if his smile was subtle, the crinkle around Ronon's eyes left no question that he'd seen it. "Thanks," John managed.

The smile stayed small but spread to Ronon's mouth. "Any time," he replied.

Behind John, a monitor beeped insistently, but his eyelids drooped anyway.

"Ah," Carson exclaimed quietly, "you're core temp is much better, Colonel."

John managed to pry his eyes open as Carson looked down at him.

"Ready to get that chunk of metal out of you shoulder?" Carson smiled.

"more than... ready," John muttered. He watched through barely opened eyes as Carson drew up a syringe of medication and reached for the port on his IV.

"Just relax Colonel. This'll be over before ye know it." Carson slowly injected the medication.

John felt a warming feeling spread through his body and his already heavy eyelids grew that much heavier. Succumbing to the medication, John surrendered his hold on consciousness.

-------------------------------------

Carson really wasn't sure the last time he'd seen a group of people look so exhausted as the four faces that stared at him as he exited the recovery wing of the infirmary. He pulled the surgical cap from his head, scrubbed his fingers through his sweaty hair and gave them all a tired smile.

"Carson?" Elizabeth was the first to speak.

"He's out of surgery." Carson answered, holding his smile. "We removed the shrapnel and repaired the damage done to his shoulder. I don't think there will be any long lasting effects, but he's going to need a considerable amount of physical therapy to regain full strength." He paused for a moment as around him, he heard faint, relieved sighs.

"What about his leg?" Ronon asked.

Carson nodded and flashed the big Satedan a reassuring smile. "Clean break. We set the bone and cast the leg. He'll be off it for about 6 weeks but shouldn't have any long lasting effects from that either. The rubble that pinned him actually immobilized it fairly nicely without compromising blood flow. The trauma to the surrounding tissue was minimal, probably caused when we freed him," Carson's smile faded.

"Hey," Elizabeth reached out and squeezed his forearm, "you didn't have a lot of options at the time. We all know that... including John."

Carson's smile was thin; a reflection of the underlying guilt he felt, in spite of the firm reasoning of Elizabeth's words. "I know. I just get a wee bit irritated at causing my patients further harm. But," Carson sighed deeply, "he's going to be all right. He'll be in the infirmary for a while and it'll be a long time before he's on active duty again, but I don't see why he won't make a full recovery."

"Can we see him?" Teyla asked quietly.

Carson shook his head. "Not now, no. He's in recovery. Besides, he's still unconscious and I expect he'll be that way for hours. No," Carson looked at each of them, "the best thing all of you can do is get some rest and come back later."

"Not tired." Ronon muttered.

"Really?" Carson retorted. "So, the black circles under your eyes are normal? Ach, no. I'm the CMO, so don't make me order you."

"I rarely sleep," Rodney added, "I fail to see why you feel the need to shoo us from the infirmary like a bunch of chickens."

"Rodney, if ye having sleep problems, I can give you something for it. An injection of course," Carson arched a brow at Rodney who backed defensively away from him.

"You wouldn't," Rodney answered.

"Wouldn't I?" Carson's expression turned mischievous.

"Come on, McKay," Ronon pushed firmly on Rodney's shoulder, steering him towards the door, a quietly chuckling Teyla right behind them.

Carson turned his attention to Elizabeth. "You too, lass," he said gently.

Her smile was hollow. "Carson..."

"He really is okay," Carson reassured. "Get some rest... and get something to eat. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been getting too thin." His expression turned warm and understanding. "I know, things have been hectic lately, but you need to take care of yourself." He nodded towards the door. "Go on."

Elizabeth smiled and arched an eyebrow. "I thought I was the expedition leader, Carson."

"And I'm the CMO," he answered, still smiling. "Now go. Doctor's orders." Carson sighed quietly as Elizabeth followed the others from the infirmary. After a moment, he turned and walked back into the recovery wing.

Stopping next to John's bed, Carson looked down at the unconscious colonel. _Tough as old boot leather..._ Carson shook his head in slight amusement. For all the colonel's easy going mannerisms and bearings, underneath it all he held an unwavering strength that, even to this day, still surprised Carson in its intensity. "You're one strong bugger," he whispered affectionately. He looked up, his eyebrows quirking at the understanding smile one of his medics, Lansing, gave him.

Lansing nodded slightly. "He sure is." She looked down at John's face, her own version of affection blanketing her expression.

Carson stifled a chuckle and said nothing. For three years, Carolyn Lansing had admired the Colonel from afar, never, as far as Carson knew, getting brave enough to say anything to him. The colonel, being wrapped up in the affairs of Atlantis and, Carson reluctantly admitted, being male, had never noticed how the normally unfazed medic blushed around him, or sometimes stumbled over her words. Carson's expression was understanding as Lansing looked up at him and blushed. "It's all right, lass," Carson reassured. "Your secret's safe with me. But, I think you should say something to him one of these days."

Lansing's blush deepened. "Maybe." Her tone was non-committal as she turned and walked away.

Carson watched her for a moment before shaking his head and turning his attention back to John. Looking up at the monitors over John's head and satisfied with what he saw, Carson stared again at John's face. "Heal thy self, Colonel," he said quietly before walking away.

----------------------------

John let the heavy book fall back on his lap as the infirmary doors opened, admitting Rodney and Elizabeth. He smiled. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Rodney snapped.

John's gaze narrowed at the horse rasp to Rodney's voice and the congestion he sniffled against. "McKay?"

Rodney's glare intensified. "I have a cold."

"Aww..." John's expression turned mischievous.

"Fine, sure. Tease the sick guy," Rodney stopped next to John's bed. "Keep it up and I'll sneeze all over you and share the misery." He stifled another sneeze with his hand. "It's all your fault you know? Traipsing around in near freezing seawater, it's a wonder I don't have pneumonia!" Rodney coughed deeply before his eyes widened in mild panic. "That wasn't good. Maybe I have..."

"No, Rodney you don't have pneumonia." Carson crossed the infirmary just in time to head off Rodney's hypochondria. "I told ye, it's just your garden variety cold virus!" Carson rolled his eyes.

John rolled his eyes at Rodney's unconvinced expression and looked at Elizabeth with cynical amusement.

"You're sure?" Rodney questioned Carson, oblivious to John's reaction, "because I'm really susceptible to illness, I mean there could be complications..."

John arched an eyebrow as Carson's annoyance deepened.

"Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted also, apparently interpreting Carson's expression. "The lab?"

Rodney shot Carson one more annoyed look before he turned back to John. "Yes, the lab. It took us three days, but we repaired the outer hull and drained the room, so I finally got a look at that technology."

John nodded. "And?"

"And, it looks like the Ancients used that lab to study geothermal energy. It was only recently activated when we got the city up and running under ZPM power. Until now, everything there has been shut down. Looks like the experiments they were running took tremendous amounts of energy to complete." Rodney paced next to John's bed. "As close as I can tell without spending days studying it, the power regulation controls took some damage, probably from the storm last year. When power returned, there was nothing to control it, so it cascaded into an overload."

"And exploded in my face." John finished.

"That doesn't explain the doors though. Why couldn't the colonel get out?" Carson questioned.

"Ah, but it does." Rodney sniffled deeply, coughed and pointed at him. "The lab was located on the extreme edge of the pier, It had to be in order to conduct geothermic scans of the ocean floor. Considering the power levels they were maintaining in their experiments, certain safeguards needed to be in place to protect the city in case something like this happened. When the power overload reached a critical level, the rooms were automatically sealed off to contain the damage."

"We're sure there's some way to override it," Elizabeth added, "but we haven't found it in the database, yet."

"And we might not for a long time," Rodney continued. "We've only indexed a fraction of the information in the database." He scratched his head. "What I don't get is why the power spiked all the sudden. We've had ZPM power for months and have routinely powered up the East Pier for scans. This should've happened a long time ago." Rodney's gaze narrowed at John. "You're sure you didn't touch anything?"

John shook his head. "No I..." his voice trailed off as memories came back to him. He resisted the urge to look up at the sound of Rodney's loud, exasperated sigh.

"You didn't... You did, didn't you?" Rodney's voice turned accusatory. "You know, when I say 'don't touch anything,' I really do mean it! Why do I bother if you don't listen, Colonel 'I have to mess with everything!' Sheppard!"

"Of course," John retorted his irritation flaring. "I throw myself into danger just to piss you off, McKay."

"Well you succeeded!" Rodney snapped.

"Gentlemen."

John bit back his annoyed reply at Elizabeth's quiet, but insistent interruption. He sighed. "It was an accident," he continued, calmer, "I tripped and grabbed a console to keep from falling. I must have powered up the lab in the process."

"Obviously," Rodney answered. "and with the power regulation controls damaged there was no way to control the raw energy from the ZPM that flowed in. My guess is the sudden spike of that much power froze the regulation controls in the control room and prevented Radek from being able to shut it down." He absently scratched his cheek. "Have to look into those safety protocols..." he muttered. Rodney stopped pacing and looked at Elizabeth. "We were lucky."

"Lucky?" John shifted in his bed and winced. "I don't feel lucky."

Rodney turned an annoyed glare on him. "We as in the whole city. The amount of power flowing into that section could've easily destroyed the entire level and half the East Pier. The resulting flooding... well we could've lost Atlantis." Rodney's gaze narrowed. "You and that damn gene of yours. The rest of us have to actually concentrate to make things work. All you have to do is touch it."

John grimaced. "Next time I'll just fall," he quipped sarcastically.

"That'd be better," Rodney answered dryly.

John sighed. "Great," he muttered, "so it was my own fault?"

"Essentially, yes." Rodney started pacing again. "What I don't get is why a catastrophic overload didn't occur. The power regulation controls were completely non functional. The overload should've been much bigger than it was, but when I reviewed the records, at the last second, the power dropped. Obviously not enough to prevent this," he waved his hand over John's body, "but, enough to contain the damage and not outright kill you or destroy the pier."

John laid his head back on his pillow. "She likes me," he answered.

"What?" Rodney's voice was exasperated. "Who?"

"Atlantis." John smiled. "She's always liked me."

"Oh great," Rodney rolled his eyes. "I know those rakish looks of yours attract almost every female within 100 miles of you, but aren't you taking this a little far?" Rodney waved his hands around his head. "It's a _city_... as in inanimate object, not some twitterpated woman!"

"Twitterpated?" Elizabeth questioned.

"It's from Bambi, you know, infatuated. Twitterpated." Rodney looked back and forth between Elizabeth and John.

"Bambi?" John teased in amusement.

"Oh, just... stop!" Rodney glared at John. "My sister loved it. Do you realize how many times I had to watch that movie when I had to..." Rodney sighed. "The point is, it's a city, not a living being!"

John arched an eyebrow at Carson who returned an understanding smile. From the first moment John had set foot on Atlantis, he'd felt the city. Initially, he'd been unsettled, not knowing what his senses kept perceiving, and being edgy because of it. Gradually, he'd come to realize he felt the wax and wane of power, the joy as each sleeping system came alive at his touch and he found a romantic satisfaction in it all. He'd suspected that, for some reason unknown to him, this was unique to people who had the gene naturally and Carson's understanding look, combined with Rodney's disbelief, only confirmed that theory. It was something only a few shared with the city and apparently him the most. He was sure his 'damn gene' gave him an intimate connection to Atlantis that in many ways he relished. "How else can you explain the power levels dropping?"

"There could be a hundred reasons!" Rodney's voice was exasperated. "Maybe something else overloaded, or the controls have a power cut off, maybe the ZPM controllers have fail safes! The point is, I'm sure there is a _scientific_ reason! After all, if the city likes you," Rodney snorted, "then why couldn't we get the doors open?"

"Because we were taking on water," John retorted. "That could've jeopardized the whole city, not just me."

"Oh whatever!" Rodney rolled his eyes. "You can rationalize anything if you try hard enough!"

John's eyelids drooped. "You have your theories, Rodney, I have mine."

"All right, I think that's enough for now," Carson interrupted smoothly. "The Colonel needs his rest."

"Fine." Rodney snapped.

John opened one eye and watched the acerbic doctor stalk from the infirmary. He opened his other eye and looked at Carson. "Thanks, Doc."

Carson's smile widened. "Aye. No problem." He turned and walked away.

"Get some rest, Colonel," Elizabeth briefly touched his forearm.

"Will do." As he watched her leave the infirmary, John's thoughts lingered on Atlantis. Part of him agreed with Rodney. There had to be a rational reason for the power levels dropping just in time..._ besides me just being lucky!_ But another part of him; the part that found the pure joy and freedom in flying or the contentment in a blue sky day; that part just knew there was more. He felt it every time he walked down the corridors of the city, or sat in the control chair, or flew a jumper. It was there; that underlying support, the quiet contentment. It made him believe without a doubt that there was more to Atlantis than just girders and metal. The Ancients could build mental components into technology, why not a city too?

John let his eyes fall shut as he pushed his head deeper into his pillow. In that quiet moment he could feel the hum of the city; comforting... reassuring. He smiled. _Thanks, Old Girl._

-end-


End file.
